


Full to Bursting

by bizzylizzy



Category: Naruto
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Death, M/M, Pining, Squick, Surreal, disturbing imagery, rot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-29
Updated: 2020-09-29
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:14:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26718085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bizzylizzy/pseuds/bizzylizzy
Summary: Itachi is dying.He is rotting from the inside out.But he is going to make it.Kisame and Shisui both tell him so.It must be true.
Relationships: Hoshigaki Kisame/Uchiha Itachi, Uchiha Itachi/Uchiha Shisui
Comments: 5
Kudos: 54





	Full to Bursting

**Author's Note:**

> WARNINGS WARNINGS WARNINGS
> 
> Disturbing death imagery, discussion of rotting, etc. This is not necrophilia, but also, it feels like it gets close? I'm not even sure how to put proper warnings on this one. Gird your loins, because dying is traumatic and I couldn't get the imagery here out of my head. So I am giving it to you.
> 
> No, don't give it back.
> 
> Really, please don't read this if you're not okay with gross imagery. I don't even think it's written well, but it needed to get out of my head.

Itachi existed in twilight. A space of time poised between life and death, and he lingered there. He had not imagined his death would be like this.

Death should be quick.

No body should be allowed to feel itself slowly breaking down--giving gradually _out_ at all the crucial points. 

There was no nobility in death. No dignity. No pretense. It was just the relentless forward march of biology. Itachi felt the building pressure of death-- _his_ death, growing slowly under his skin, waiting for the moment when it would burst free.

And while he waited, he existed in the spaces between time, back and forth between then and now.  
~  
Itachi and Shisui sat on the banks of the river. Itachi had his feet in the water, the cold a wonderful contrast to the burning heat of the sun. Sweat covered him already. Shisui's hand was cold where it held Itachi's between them. Itachi's hand caged under Shisui's fingers. 

"Wouldn't it be cooler with your hair up?" Shisui asked.

"It gives me a headache if I leave it up," Itachi complained.

"It won't for a few minutes. You're drenched," Shisui started to stand, but stopped. "Do you mind?"

"You just want to touch my hair," Itachi protested.

Shisui smiled, and his smiled turned Itachi's world on its head. It made his stomach curl in on itself. The feeling was so tight and intense it made Itachi hot and cold at once. Itachi would do anything for that smile--for Shisui.

"I can never sneak anything past you. . ." Still that smile. "May I?"

"It's dirty and drenched in sweat. You can just leave it."

"It looks better up. You have a nice neck," Shisui said definitively. He swept Itachi's hair up off his neck, a rush of cold air cause goosebumps to rise all over Itachi's skin. "You shouldn't hide behind all of your hair."

Shisui secured Itachi's hair in a loose bun, and reached forward to pull Itachi's bangs back from his face. Itachi tipped his head back with the tacky pull of Shisui's hands through his bangs.

Shisui frowned. "You're flushed. Are you feeling all right?"

Itachi nodded. "Just hot."

"If you're that hot, maybe we should just go for a swim," Shisui suggested, dropping Itachi bangs and stepping past Itachi out on top of the water. He turned and smiled at Itachi. "We deserve a break."

"Shisui," Itachi felt the warning in his voice. He started to stand. His body was weak, sweat running off him like water. The water would be cool. Itachi imagined himself submerged completely underwater. He imagined how refreshing it would be as the current swept all the dirt and sweat downriver, away from his skin.

"Wouldn't it be so nice?" Shisui asked, perfectly echoing Itachi's thoughts. "To just take a break?

"To just let it all go?"

Shisui released his chakra control and fell under the water.

Itachi felt it. He felt the cold of the water. He felt himself become weightless, the weakness and aching in his body fading as he floated in the water. He felt it as Shisui opened his mouth. As water filled his nose. As--

Itachi doubled forward, coughing. Water streamed from his nose, splashing out of his mouth. He couldn't breathe, choking on more than water in Shisui's mouth. Minnows fell and thrashed on the grass. River rocks joined them. The cough felt more like vomiting, and human bones rained out of Itachi's mouth. He regurgitated the corpse he'd left under the water, drowning on dry land.  
~  
Itachi startled awake as Kisame touched his shoulder. He'd fallen asleep in the tiny bathtub in their hotel room, the size of which had likely kept him from drowning. The water had still come up to Itachi's chin, lapping over his bottom lip.

"You let the water get cold."

Itachi realized he was shivering. The aches of his joints had amplified. Itachi knew how much colder he would be when he got out. He'd been avoiding bathing in the colder weather. Today, being fully _clean_ had been too tempting.

Kisame formed a few signs and placed his hand in the water, pushing it in a few circles. The water heated almost immediately, a simple jutsu a child could do. Kisame did it because Itachi couldn't risk it now. The heat hitting Itachi was like a physical caress, goosebumps rising all over his flesh. He sank down into the water a little farther.

"Thank you. I didn't expect to fall asleep." It was almost an apology, nearly an admission.

"Are you catching something else?" Kisame asked.

"It's the medication I added. I underestimated the sedation effects." It made his brain thick, his thoughts like syrup. It made his dreams _vivid_ and surreal. It divorced him from a bit of the horror of his body's breakdown.

"Is it worth it?" Kisame asked, his hand still stirring the water. 

"Yes," Itachi lied, because he didn't quite know at this point.

"You should get out before it gets cold again," Kisame advised as he stood up and found a towel. Itachi sank a little deeper into the water, already aching in anticipation of the cold on his skin. It took more strength than Itachi would like to heave himself out of the water. As soon as he did, Kisame wrapped the towel around his shoulders.

"There's hot food," Kisame said. "You should eat before that gets cold too." Kisame held the towel around Itachi's shoulders tightly, as if that could hold Itachi together.

"Thank you." Itachi was starting to shiver again. Fever? Just not enough fat left on his body to keep himself warm? It was hard to separate illness from simple physical deficiencies. It was hard to determine what he could treat, and what he simply had to live with.

Kisame pulled The towel a little tighter around Itachi's shoulders. Itachi tipped his head up to look at Kisame, cocking it in a way that had become a habit. 

Kisame responded to the familiar gesture. His mouth was _hot._ Burning like the sun, and Itachi wanted to crawl into Kisame's skin.

"Get dressed," Kisame said, not at all what would have come out of his mouth months ago. "And come eat."

Itachi was already cold again.  
~  
Itachi curled in on himself, feeling the press of his vertebra against his papery skin. The rough bark of the tree threatened to cut into his skin. Every part of him was so tender, every nerve to close to the surface it felt like a dull knife pressed to his skin. Whatever fight he had been in, he had lost it.

"How are you feeling?" Shisui sat in front of Itachi. He had been cleaning weapons, deadly instruments laid out all around him. Itachi had been watching him for minutes or hours.

Were they in the forest or by the river? Itachi couldn't remember. He could hear the river. It had to be nearby.

"Tired," Itachi replied. He closed his eyes, opening them to the dream clarity. All the detail in Shisui's face, his clothes, every strand of hair was remembered. Itachi had not seen this well in years.

"I can help you with that," Shisui suggested, or told Itachi, because he was standing up now, stepping over the bloody weapons. "You still have a ways to go, Itachi."

"I know," Itachi agreed. "I'll make it. I just need to rest. I'll get there."

"You just need to let some of the pressure off," Shisui agreed. He knelt, kissing Itachi. His mouth was soft. He smelled of woods. Leaf litter. The rich scent of damp wood. "I can help with that." 

Shisui set his broad hands on Itachi's chest and pushed Itachi's shirt open. He pressed his hand to the heartbeat there. Itachi felt his skin flush, his heartbeat quicken. The throbbing in his head doubled with that heartbeat. Pain thrummed down his spine in time with his pulse, as if the veins were pressing hard against his skin.

"Where does it hurt?" Shisui asked, mouth almost on Itachi's. Leaning closer. Tempting. What if Itachi kissed him? What if Itachi tipped Shisui back into the thick deadfall of the forest floor?

_What if--_

"My back--my head," Itachi said. _Everywhere._

"Let me fix it." Shisui didn't ask it. He was already standing as he said the words. He stepped behind Itachi. Gently, he touched the nape of Itachi's neck and slid his hand down Itachi's back to his hips. The cloth parted under Shisui's fingers and fell away. Shisui counted each vertebra along Itachi's spine slowly as his fingers went back up to Itachi's neck.

He reached the nape of Itachi's neck.

He pulled gently against the skin. 

Pressure built up against Itachi's skin, the ache echoing down his spine. Itachi felt a sharp pain, a quick jerk. 

Relief.

From the rotted mess of Itachi's spine Shisui's clever fingers pulled a flower, heavy with a sweet scent. The flower was a deep, dark red with a bone white center. The stalk and leaves were black and wet. Leaves unfurled into jagged shapes. Itachi felt the petals brush his skin, the pull of the roots under his skin, wrapped around his bones. It explained the stiffness and the grating of his joints so well.

"Is that better?" Shisui asked.

"Yes," Itachi answered. He could suddenly feel his body was full of the roots of these plants. They were wrapped around his bones, choking his organs, stealing his energy and nutrients away as they pressed ever harder against his skin, unable to escape.

"Shisui," Itachi said it urgently, skin crawling as he became _aware_ of what lurked under his skin. 

"I'll get them all," Shisui promised. "But it might hurt." 

"I don't care."

"I do," Shisui almost chastised. "But you'll feel better after. I promise." It was all relief as Shisui's seeking fingers went down Itachi's back, gently pulling the flowers free from each spinous process. Itachi could feel something hot and thick running down his back as Shisui worked, contributing to the heavy scent in the air. It almost smelled like rot.

Shisui's fingers reached Itachi's hips. Itachi could feel the weight of the plants pulling against his body, pulling his bones against his skin, aching and burning, but having them _out_ , not trapped under the skin was the relief. Itachi rested his forehead on his knees and felt Shisui's hands on his skull. Shisui hooked his long fingers under the plates of Itachi's skull. He easily found where they should be fused together but his fingers slid in. Shisui lifted off the top of Itachi's skull. 

Itachi felt the relief of pressure instantly. His head sagged forward. The sweet scent doubled, tripling as hot liquid ran down Itachi's face, dripping from the fractured line of his skull.

"Isn't that better?" Shisui asked softly, as the roots found their way around Itachi's eyes and flowers bloomed from the useless sockets. Itachi could still see perfectly. Everything was clear as Shisui plucked a flower from Itachi's back and tucked it behind Itachi's ear.

"Take a breath, darling," Shisui whispered. "Just keep breathing.

"You'll make it."  
~  
Itachi woke up wedged against the wall. His back ached, bruised already from just the pressure of his body against the hard wall. Itachi rolled away, moving slowly, deliberately taking time to assess what hurt most. He rolled to his stomach, propped on his elbows as the phantom lights crawled along his fading vision. The cave they'd chosen for camping was dark, smelling heavily of damp and decomposing plant matter. Kisame hadn't wanted to sleep here, but it had been raining steadily outside.

Itachi let his heavy head hang, the throbbing amplified by the position. He felt the stiff resistance of each joint as he moved. He felt the roots locking him into place. _Dust to dust._ Itachi thought.

A hand touched the nape of his neck. It cupped the vulnerable place there and Itachi lay back down, letting the gentle pressure guide him back into the thin travel mattress. The hand traced his spine, slick with sweat. It did not pull anything from Itachi to relieve the swelling pain building along his body, but it settled on him. It stayed.

It was real.

Itachi reached back for the hand. It came to him, and Itachi held it, fingers hooked together and pulled to his chest. Scarred knuckles to his lips. Itachi closed his eyes again.

_"Keep breathing."_

Itachi opened his eyes, but he couldn't see anything in the darkness.  
~  
Itachi hurried down the forest path, descending the sharp hills in bare feet, nimble in his light body. In some places he jumped from one section of the path down to another, winding ever down. With each step, he hurtled faster, until it seemed he must have a fatal crash at the bottom. Instead he ran, branches slapping him as he hurtled through them. He didn't know where he was going until he stopped short in a clearing.

Shisui turned. He was wearing a crown of flowers, bright red against his black hair. He had a peach in one hand, one bite taken from it. It dripped juice.

Shisui smiled. Itachi thought his heart would burst at the sight. Shisui's cheeks were pink, his mouth smiling, and his eyes were bright.

"I've been waiting for you."

Itachi was out of breath, and he couldn't seem to catch it. It burned his throat and lungs like fire. Each gasp felt wet.

"I'm sorry," Itachi apologized with another sucking breath.

"Is everything all right?" Shisui asked, stepping up to Itachi.

"Yes," Itachi took another deep breath and felt the lie in his mouth. He couldn't breathe and his heart was pounding so hard it hurt. Shisui smiled again, though, and Itachi felt that through his bones. Boiling in his blood. Shisui set his hand on Itachi's shoulder, the sweet smell of the flowers in his hair wafting over Itachi.

"Let me help you," Shisui suggested. He kissed Itachi, drawing him in and holding him tight. Itachi could smell the peach still held in Shisui's hand. Shisui's mouth tasted of the fruit. Itachi felt absolutely euphoric, giddy as Shisui pulled back and offered Itachi the fruit.

Itachi took a bite, his teeth scraping the pit, the sweet juice running over his chin. Shisui licked off the juice as it ran down Itachi's neck. The peach dropped to the ground. Shisui pushed Itachi back down into the soft grass of the clearing. Itachi lay back, still out of breath as Shisui pulled his shirt over his head. Red flowers cascaded down on Itachi, one landing in his mouth. Shisui kissed him again. 

Itachi was on fire, his skin burning up. Shisui lifted Itachi's shirt over his head and revealed Itachi's naked ribs. Itachi stared in wonder as Shisui ran his hand down Itachi's exposed sternum. Tangled red vines bloomed from around his ribs, mushrooms sprouted among his lungs. The reason Itachi could not catch his breath made perfect sense now.

"You are not dying," Shisui said with very soft awe. "You are full to bursting with life." 

To prove his point, Shisui gently pulled aside Itachi's crumbling ribs, and wrested Itachi's still beating heart out of his chest. Shisui held the organ between them, and Itachi didn't even feel the lack.

And then he could not breath. Vines were blooming out his mouth, crawling from his nose, each gasp filled his more and more with red petals as Shisui held Itachi's heart aloft.

And then took a bite from it, just as he had the peach. The juices ran down his chin, and Shisui smiled.  
~  
Itachi woke up with Kisame holding him up and forward, steadying Itachi as he vomited again and took a sucking breath. Itachi coughed hard and managed another breath. He felt three ribs out of place, one popping loudly back into place as Kisame shifted Itachi back. Itachi took another sharp breath, strangling a noise of pain. 

"Sleeping lying down looks like it's off the board," Kisame said after Itachi had managed to get his breath back. They were against the headboard, and the sheets were wet. Nightsweats had seemed like the least of Itachi's problems, but they were becoming more of an issue. He woke up chilled when he'd sweated through the blankets and the _smell_ became more and more of a burden every day.

"Is that what happened?"

Kisame didn't answer, but what had happened was simple. Itachi was dying. And as he died in these slow stages, more and more things were impossible or ill-advised. He was becoming _incompatiable_ with life.

Itachi could see nothing but phantom light in this darkness, but he could feel Kisame next to him well enough. Itachi's hair clung to his wet skin, but Itachi had given up sleeping in any clothes. It wasn't worth it when he'd just soak them in the night.

Itachi took a labored breath and coughed again. This exhaustion did strange things to his bones, making them too heavy, but he could make it. He could drag himself to the end. He had a bag of drugs he was saving. A cocktail that would wreck him, but that would give him those few hours of vitality he needed.

Itachi just had to get there.

That would be enough.

Kisame's knee rested against Itachi's. Their arms and shoulders were touching. Kisame had his rough fingers habitually pressed to the pulse in Itachi's elbow. For the first time in a very long time, Itachi had regrets.  
~  
Itachi lay on the ground. 

Shisui was combing Itachi's hair back from his face. His fingers were rough, and his callouses kept catching on Itachi's hair.

"Can you breath?" Shisui asked softly. His mouth was close to Itachi's.

"No," Itachi answered. He could and he couldn't. If he could begin to breathe through his skin like a plant, things would be easier.

"You can. I can still feel it. I'll know the second you stop," Shisui promised.

"Why?"

"Because it's you," Shisui whispered. Shisui's rough fingers traced Itachi's cheekbone, down the side of his face to feel for the pulse in his neck. Itachi felt a gentle pain. Something adjusted under his skin. 

"I wish I could have been a tree," Shisui said softly. Forlorn. "I wish I could have grown into something." Itachi opened his eyes, because Shisui sounded young. Small. Childlike. Itachi opened his eyes to see a battered face, empty sockets. A dead thing.

Warm lips touched his cheekbone. Itachi opened his eyes to darkness.

Kisame was humming something in the darkness.

Itachi reached out a hand, and calloused fingers caught his.

"How's your breathing?"

"Fine," Itachi lied, because his lungs bubbles and popped. "I just need to rest."

"Then close your eyes," Kisame's voice was smooth, slipping back into Itachi's dreams with him.

"And just rest," Shisui whispered against Itachi's lips. "Just have a rest.

"And one day soon, you will be a tree."

Itachi could already feel the roots of the tree spreading through his body, wrapping around his bones, holding him together until the final push would come.  
~  
Itachi took the drugs earlier than he had planned. He eased them into his arm and fully expected to see petals or vines spill out of his arm.

Itachi bathed. He took his time, scrubbing every scent of sickness from his body. Every trace of sweat or grime. He washed his hair, something he had not attempted in a while. Clumps came out. Itachi hadn't been brushing it often, but there were no mats. Under the cloak, Sasuke would see nothing but what Itachi wanted him to see. Itachi saw his desiccation with his hands, mapping his body with his hands and found the confirmation of his death. This body could not go on.

But Itachi had one more thing to do.

Itachi walked out of the bathroom, steadier on his feet than he expected. The drugs were heady and harsh. Kisame looked up, the sweeping look assessing everything about Itachi from the soles of his feet to his wet hair. Itachi felt it more than he saw it, Kisame being indistinct to Itachi's sight. What was Kisame seeing in the sunken flesh and protruding bones?

Did he imagine the forest blooming under Itachi's skin? Did he see nothing but nourishment for plants? Could he smell in the air everything putrid under Itachi's skin?

"You took them already?"

"There's no point in waiting. It will be a quick fight, and I want them to have time to take full effect," Itachi still felt the pain. He still felt as if every joint was too full or too big. His lungs were stiff and resisted each breath. His ribs and torso perpetual agony from the dislocations, cracks, torn muscles from trying to cough up all the decay building up inside his lungs.

"I have something I want to do before the end," Itachi said. The sun was up now, soft light coming through the window.

"If you're willing," Itachi added, setting a knee on the bed beside Kisame. The sheets had a faint smell of sweat, because Itachi had been in them. How Kisame slept next to him, night after night, Itachi didn't know.

Only, he did.

Kisame touched Itachi's hips, prominent now. Bruised. Itachi had noticed while washing that his stomach was slightly bloated, a little off in color on the side. Kisame's thumb low on his gut made something throb. Itachi could see himself bursting open, spilling rotten guts all over Kisame. There was something very _wrong_ inside of him.

But that didn't matter now, because Itachi had made it. This was the final stretch. Soon, none of this would matter.

"Do you have time?" Kisame asked as Itachi steadied himself on Kisame's shoulders to get his other knee onto the bed. The true question was if he had the energy. The life left for anything but the end.

"I have time," Itachi whispered, aware he had been sweating, bleeding, and vomiting on Kisame repeatedly over these last weeks. The healing and fresh needle marks covering Itachi's arms and even his neck were a testament to Kisame's commitment. They were a love letter pricked into Itachi's skin, and he would carry them with him into death.

When Itachi kissed Kisame, Kisame didn't taste like rot. He didn't taste sweet. He tasted like someone who had just woken up. His teeth were sharp enough to cut Itachi's tongue and lips. His hands on Itachi's spine felt like they could easily peel back Itachi's skin, access his bones and heart and failing organs. For a moment, Itachi imagined Kisame opening him up and releasing all the infections. All the swollen and cracked and torn pieces trapped under Itachi's skin bursting out into the world.

But instead Kisame lay Itachi back on the still damp bed, kissing his jaw and neck. He pulled Itachi together under him, holding him together in the space between his body and the mattress. He lifted Itachi's hips. And it was the drugs, the powerful push of the uppers coursing through Itachi that he was aroused as he hadn't been by Kisame in weeks. Every touch hurt, but every touch was blissful. Itachi's shaking hands were mapping everything he could not see. Kisame face and his neck, grabbing his hair to pull him in. Itachi's body knew Kisame. It accepted him. Kisame didn't complain when Itachi bit as hard as he could into Kisame shoulder when Kisame pushed inside.

It was in part the drugs. It was in part the death. It was in part the circumstances. It was in part Kisame's cock inside Itachi. It was in part Kisame. It in part Itachi feeling, as Kisame touched him, as Kisame consented to drive himself into Itachi's rotten body again and again without complaint, more than a little regret.

It was mostly the salty taste of Kisame's blood in Itachi's mouth, rich and thick. 

It was all a farewell, an apology, a consolation prize, and a thank you.

It was the last.

But not quite.  
\--  
Itachi lay naked on the clearing. Shisui sat naked beside him.

"You were never this to me," Itachi said gently to Shisui's broad back. Shisui looked back at Itachi.

Shisui was in his twenties. Golden with a handsome face. His eyes were bright, both in his head with no sign of scars or blemishes. His hair was the same riot of curls. This was everything Itachi had seen his cousin as when he was a child, aged up with Itachi's growth. This was pure sugar coated fantasy.

Shisui had died at seventeen. He was only bones at the bottom of a river now. He had stopped then.

Itachi had gone on.

Looking back, seventeen seemed _young._ Shisui had seemed very much an _adult_ and infinitely _wise_ to Itachi, and Itachi had loved Shisui with the whole of his child's heart. Itachi had _pined_ for Shisui, building shrines to a dead boy in his heart for years. It had been his own personal tragedy in the midst of so much loss, and something he could properly mourn--losing his first love.

Itachi turned his head. A throne sat before him, a small skeleton sitting proudly in it. River rocks gleamed as eyes. Water trickled from the open mouth of the skull. water plants wreathed the bones, covering them. Long, clever fingers rest on the arms of the throne.

"Hello Shisui."

Itachi had made it to twenty-one. He had known Shisui as many years as he had been without Shisui now. These last eight years seemed longer than the eight before. They stretched from disaster to death in a personal eternity.

But the last year had happened in an instant.

"I was only a child to you." The hands he remembered on his body were not Shisui's. The lips he had kissed had never belonged to the boy in the river. The body that had taken his was not this one. In the grand scheme of the world, it didn't matter. Not Itachi's loss, or Kisame's love, or that Uchiha Itachi had fallen in love with two different people, and having been left behind would now leave one behind.

In Itachi's slowly failing heart, it had a very real, heavy weight.

Itachi picked up the flower crown his phantom had left behind. He stood up with all the bones in his body grating together. Itachi set the crown on the skull. He kissed the bleached forehead, washed smooth by years of a river's current.

"I'll be with you soon, Shisui."

As he heard Sasuke come in, Itachi opened his eyes. He sat in his throne of stone. He could smell something sickly sweet, either decay or flowers.

Itachi smiled. 

Here it was.

The

End.


End file.
